


Forty-Six Egg Rolls Lead Me To My Soulmate

by zjass06



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Also a mob boss so yeah, Alternate Universe - Mortal, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff and Crack, General Shenanigans, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Mafia AU, Nico di Angelo is a Little Shit, SORRY LEO, Will Solace is a Ball of Sunshine, Will is held captive but is still a nice guy, Will's just a delivery guy, dw he doesn't die or anything, ish, minor injury, not very good humor but humor nonetheless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24617851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjass06/pseuds/zjass06
Summary: In which when you first lay eyes on your soulmate, your world gets filled with colour and you no longer have to view everything in dull shades of grey.It's too bad that Will's probably going to end up dying here before he even gets to meet them or see what the colour red looks like.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 18
Kudos: 332





	Forty-Six Egg Rolls Lead Me To My Soulmate

Will Solace is just a humble delivery guy.

It may not be the best job, but it certainly isn’t the worst. The owner is a kind lady that lets him take home free Chinese at the end of each week and occasionally helps Will decipher nonsensical fortunes that he finds in his cookies, so he’s not one for complaining. Also – considering that it’s a part-time job he’s planning to ditch once his term is up – the pay is decent, despite being charming enough to make generous tips, too.

When he gets prompted to an address he’s never delivered to before, he doesn’t really question it, and nor does he question the order of forty-six egg rolls and the single portion of hot and sour soup. However, by the time he pulls his bike into the driveway of a rather lavish looking home, ringing the doorbell with a practiced, not-trying-too-hard smile only to be welcomed to the sound of several gunshots and a high pitched scream, Will takes that as an immediate cue to get the fuck out.

If he weren’t in such an adrenaline induced frenzy, he might have spared a mental apology for the stolen food he doesn’t put down by the doorstep. So maybe it’s just swiftly returning karma coming back to slap him across the face, running into the driveway only to be temporarily blinded by the beaming headlights of a car that just ran over and flattened his bike like a pancake.

Any outraged exclamation dies on his lips as a man charges out of the car and knocks Will out clean with the butt of his gun.

* * *

Will wakes up to a pounding headache and blackness.

Well, more blackness than usual, that is. Not the dull shades of grey he’s been seeing his whole life, but just a single sheet of black (only seen on the darkest tones) obscuring his vision. It’s that paired with the stuffy air and the itchy fabric that he quickly realises he’s been blindfolded, promptly leading to the second realisation that he’s roped to a chair and cannot move.

There’s a sound of someone groaning in pain and he’s fairly certain it’s not him, despite his painfully throbbing head making him want to cuss and yell.

“I’m going to die,” someone whines. “I’m dying and no one here cares.”

There’s a deep sigh before a feminine sounding voice says, “Stop being so dramatic, Valdez.”

“Dramatic? I’ve been fucking _shot_ if you haven’t noticed!”

“Yes, in the foot, it’s not that bad… at least I think,” there’s a defeated groan before she continues. “Just try to stay calm, Percy’s finding the first aid kit and boss is on his way.”

After that, nobody talks, the only thing he can hear is shuddering breaths and frantic pacing. Will tries not to breathe too loudly, in order to remain inconspicuous and seemingly unconscious but he’s quite certain that the sound of his hammering heart slamming against his ribs can be heard all the way in Australia.

He closes his eyes. _Stay calm_ , Will tells himself – admittedly, it’s not very calming.

A couple minutes pass before the most pained sounding groan yet slips past the injured one’s lips. “Aw, man… Piper. I’m done,” he moans. “Look at how pale my skin is now; I was working on my tan all month!”

The person that Will assumes is Piper snorts, “Yeah, now you can almost challenge Ni—”

Abruptly, she’s interrupted by the sound of a door slamming off his hinges. “I’ve got it!” a new voice exclaims, and Will can’t help but cuss at the sudden, head-splitting loudness.

There’s an unnerving silence and it’s at that very moment that Will decides that he is officially screwed.

“How long has he been awake for?” the same, new voice asks.

“I didn’t even realise he was awake…” Piper replies.

Valdez pipes in weakly, “I think there are more urgent matters at hand, guys.”

“Right,” the new voice says and then Will can’t make out anything above some scurrying and a click of the first aid box flicking open. “Right… what now?”

“What do you _mean_ ‘what now’?” Piper chides. “Just wrap it up or whatever.”

“Do we wrap it up while the bullets still in there?”

Leo growls, “Percy, I swear to God just do _something_.”

“Why is this up to me?! Piper doesn’t know what the fuck to do either!”

“You’ve been shot at how many times now?” Piper scoffs. “And you still don’t know?!”

“I was _unconscious_ —!”

Will doesn’t know what prompts him to say it. Whether it’s trying to get on their good side, being a good Samaritan to his kidnappers, possession, or the kneejerk reaction to help a wounded person when one is in training to become a doctor, he has no fucking clue.

“I can help,” Will announces, voice muffled behind the mask. “I’m a med student, I can help him.”

He gulps at the dubious silence, muttering a prayer to all the gods he can think of. Is it bad to offer your expertise to a bunch of armed criminals?

“How can we trust you?” someone says – _Percy_ , Will reminds himself.

“It doesn’t matter,” Piper claims. “Not unless he can fix him while he can’t see shit. The whole reason he’s blindfolded in the first place is so he can’t see our faces, and if he does then you know what boss will do to him.”

Will doesn’t exactly think that this ‘boss’ guy is going to give him a firm handshake and overenthusiastically announce his thanks…

For the first time in the night, Will comprehends the severity of the situation. His life is on the line here. He has to play it smart otherwise he doubts he’s going to be able to leave the house alive. All because of forty-six fucking egg rolls and a single portion of hot and sour soup.

“I swear to God I won’t say anything about any of this to anyone, just let me help, he’s clearly bleeding out,” Will attempts to rationalise.

“We can’t,” she affirms. “At least, it’s not our call. We’ll wait for boss; he should be here any minute now. If we do anything without consulting him, he’s just gonna end up killing us all.”

Percy laughs bitterly, “Not that it bothers me, when Annabeth gets back and sees all this, I’m fucking dead.”

“I’ll be sure to apologise for dying in her home, then,” Valdez snaps.

“Let me just put in perspective for your lonely ass,” Percy starts. “Your blood is red. Your blood stains. The carpet is white. The carpet is god damn ruined and Annabeth is gonna have my head for it.”

It’s difficult to follow since Will hasn’t found his soulmate yet either, so he has no damn clue what red even _looks_ like.

“Look,” he interferes. “Just let me help like this. Is his leg elevated? If it isn’t, go grab something or lean it against something pretty high to reduce the blood flow there.”

It’s stupid. So fucking stupid that he’s even helping his kidnappers at all, however that doesn’t stop him from sighing a breath of relief when he hears more scurrying. Then it’s followed by a hefty thump and Valdez hissing from what Will assumes is from having to move his leg.

“Put pressure on the wound, with something sterile, there should be cotton gauzes in the first aid kit, use that if you’ve got it.”

“We’re not idiots, we’ve been doing that much this whole time,” Piper scolds.

“Oh great, do you want a medal? Congratulations on being able to understand the utterly massive complexities of basic first aid training,” Will snaps before he can stop it. Tensing up, he bites his lip. It really isn’t wise to mouth off his captors.

Percy laughs, “I like this guy.”

Ignoring him, Piper asks, “What’s next?”

“Ideally, you call 911—”

“—Not happening.”

“That’s what I thought. I can’t see how bad it is, and how deep the bullet is, so that’s I can do right now until your _boss_ gets here.”

“Jesus fuck I’m going to die before I’ve met my soulmate,” Valdez groans.

After that comment, Will sighs and attempts to relax against his bindings, blurring out their idle chatter as background noise. Despite theatrics, Will can empathise with him. He and his zero-bullshit policy can pretty much determine that he’s most likely never going to see the light of the day again, let alone meet the one he’s fated to fall in love with. Is it arrogant to feel bad for his soulmate? By no means does Will think he’s a life changing individual, however that’s also what soulmates are supposed to be to each other. His soulmate will spend the rest of their days colour blind, wondering what things like red looked like and what the hell was taking Will so damn long.

His rather depressing stream of consciousness is disturbed with the sweet rumble of an engine pulling into the driveway, the slam of a car door and sighed _finally_. Will can’t help but drum his fingers against the arms of the chair with how so sparsely he can move, a whole new wave of nervousness washing over him like icy water because this guy literally holds his life in his hands.

He hears the creak of the door opening, the footsteps entering and the buzzing in the silence. Blinded to the whole scene, he has no fucking clue what’s going on. Maybe they’re using some sort of secret code, gesturing to each so they can be quiet and subtle when they shoot him in the head, kind enough to spare him any panic. Unfortunately, Will can confirm their attempts are in vain.

“Annabeth is going to have your ass, Jackson,” the new voice humours and Will shivers. Literally shivers: goosebumps and all.

His voice is like embers and it sets Will alight. Crackling. Deceptively warm enough to draw close to, but dangerous and foolish to touch. It’s slightly accented, too… _Italian_ , he guesses, though he doubts it could be anything else. Smooth and lethal. God, Will’s never been so attracted to a voice before; he blames it on his blindness, how his other senses are working on overload and that’s why he finds himself admiring his inevitable murderer.

“ _Por el amor de Dios_ , why is everyone more concerned about Percy dying when I’m literally losing blood by the second here?!”

“You’ll be fine,” their boss claims. “You’ll be able to pull through the night, then we can get one of the medics to you in a few hours.”

Will doubts Valdez would be able to last that long without slipping into unconsciousness, and he’s glad when Percy voices the same idea.

“He won’t be able to pull through, not until that long. He needs to get treated and the guy over there says he can help.”

He may not be able to see, but Will swears he can feel the moment their boss’s gaze falls onto his frame, feel how it burns into his chest.

Slow, heavy footsteps approach him. Will holds his breath.

“Is that so?” the deceptively sweet voice begins. “And for what reason would I believe that you can even help?”

“I’m in med school,” Will replies. Then he swallows, his mouth unexplainably dry. “Check my pockets, my wallet has my ID card in it.”

Although he knows he always keeps his card on his person at all time, he can’t help but doubt whether it’s in there. What if it had slipped out and fallen into a gutter? What if it’s disintegrated into thin air because the gods just hate him that much?

“It’s true,” Piper confirms, who’s probably showing her boss his ID with his rather unappealing photo on it.

“So, _Will Solace_ , this is how it’s going to go,” and _Christ,_ Will is so very aware of how much he should be focusing, but all he can think about is how much he wants to hear that voice say his name again and again and _again_. “I’m going to take off your blindfold and undo all these ropes, but don’t even _try_ to think about running – I’ve never missed a shot. You’re just going to behave and do whatever the fuck you need to do to help Leo to the best of your abilities with the stuff we have available. You manage that much, and I’ll let you run along home. If you dare open your mouth about any of us, well… trust me, I have all the power and capability to make sure you’ll never be seen again. Either that, or you’ll never see any of your loved ones again. Understood?”

Will’s heart is a sledgehammer to his ribs and every single hair on his skin is on edge, but he tries not to let it show in his voice. “Understood.”

“And seeming as though you’re going to find out anyway, my name is Nico di Angelo. Do you know who I am, Will Solace?”

He hates himself for saying it. Thinks he deserves the death they’ll surely bring for saying it.

“The guy who ordered forty-six egg rolls and a single portion of hot and sour soup?” he croaks out.

“ _Forty-six—?_ ” Suddenly, there’s a swoop of air and the tension dissipates. “Leo, you fucking dumbass why did you order take out when we’re on high alert?”

“I was… hungry! And in all fairness… I made the order…. _before_ we were…. attacked,” he claims in breathy pants.

“ _This_ close, Valdez. This close to letting you bleed out on the carpet.”

Without warning, Nico yanks off the blindfold from his head and it’s as though the world burst before him. The light intensity should be burning his eyes after being so adjusted to the dark, but he can’t find it in him to even blink. _Colours_ , he thinks numbly. Colours. Beyond the greys and the blacks and the whites, not just shades but actual _types_ of colours. Somehow, he knows exactly what colours are what, as though he’s been around them his whole life. Technically, he has, but was just blinded to the sheer beauty of them.

Then it ignites him like flames burning in gasoline when he realises what exactly this means. Wide, beautiful, deep brown eyes stare back at him in awe. Gorgeous red lips parted in disbelief. Pale, porcelain skin, smooth and flawless. Hair long and midnight black pulled back into a scruffy ponytail, held together with a purple hair tie.

“Blue.” Nico says after a few long seconds of complete silence.

“What?” Will breathes.

“Your eyes,” he reiterates. “They’re blue.”

“Holy shit… no fucking way…” Piper mutters and yeah, that’s exactly how Will would describe it. Yet it barely scrapes the tip of the iceberg.

Leo is the one who says it aloud. “You… can see… colours… you two are…. soulmates.”

It’s a fact, but Will can barely believe it. Despite the evidence tainting everywhere he turns; every glimpse he takes, bold and clear. He absentmindedly restrains himself from blinking, afraid that when he opens his eyes again the world will fade back to the dull, monotone shades it was draped in before.

Then, Leo faints.

Will doesn’t speak, neither does Nico, but that doesn’t deter Piper and Percy’s awestruck comments and teases.

They unbind Will from the chair rather expertly and he tries not to think too intently into that fact. He hurries towards Leo, checking his vitals and assessing the wound. He does what he can, disinfects and wraps it up. He doesn’t chance removing the bullet himself, preferring not to risk excessive and life-threatening amounts of blood loss. Will’s focused and works calmly, but admittedly he’s still a little dazed at the vibrancy of well… _everything_.

By the time he’s done, Piper and Percy carry him away into a spare room with a bed. All Will can do is remain stoic still, standing there in a shock that he’s not quite overcome.

He feels Nico come up, standing beside with. He’s around a head shorter than Will, but he has no doubt that Nico could effortlessly kill Will in over 101 ways and best him in a fight with his arms tied behind his back. _(It’d barely be a disadvantage, though,_ Will gathers, considering the fact that Nico’s mostly long, lean, and lithe legs.)

“Is it bad that I find it incredibly sexy to see all that red blood on your hands?” Nico purrs, staring down at Will’s bloody palms.

“Disturbingly so,” he replies.

A burst of relief floods through him when he chances a glance at Nico to catch a dangerous smirk curling at the edges of his lips. Thank god he was just kidding.

“It’s funny, I would’ve never guessed someone like you to be my soulmate.”

Will chokes out a laugh at that, “ _You’re_ surprised?! Jesus, I didn’t exactly bet my money on being fated with a… I don’t even know. A gangster?”

“Mafia leader, baby,” Nico corrects slyly, and the endearment is doing _all_ sorts of things to him.

“Right, right. Mafia leader. Of course. I mean, _obviously_. Because that’s normal and sane and _normal_ an—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish, but he doesn’t particularly mind when his soulmate’s slender fingers bury themselves into his hair and his red lips press against his own in a breath-taking kiss. He melts into it immediately, and despite everything, it just all makes sense. Like two puzzle pieces slotting together. This is exactly how it’s meant to be.

Will’s saved from subconsciously placing his bloodied hands on Nico’s hips when Piper coughs rather loudly, interrupting them both.

“Cool it lovebirds, we’ve got forty-six cold egg rolls and a bit of soup downstairs that aren’t going to eat themselves.”


End file.
